


Dancing With Myself

by Virago77



Series: Masturbation Games [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fantasizing, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 22:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12220137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virago77/pseuds/Virago77
Summary: Stiles fantasizes about Derek.





	Dancing With Myself

* * *

 

**Dancing With Myself**

 

Stiles groaned as he shoved his pants and underwear to his ankles and got his hand around his dick.    His whole body jerked once he touched the hot, swollen shaft.  He fell back onto his bed, legs handing off the side, and pumped his hips up into his hand.  He didn’t need to dig out the lube because he was leaking precome like a faucet.

            This was all Derek Hale’s fault. 

            When the Stilinski’s first moved to Beacon Hills, of course he noticed how beautiful the guy was.  But that was all he noticed.  They didn’t have any classes together and Hale was on the basketball team, which seemed to finish practice around the same time as the Lacrosse team, but they never crossed paths in the locker room.  He had no idea exactly how scorching hot he was until about twenty minutes ago.

            After practice Stiles had showered, dressed and was headed to his car when he realized that he had grabbed his practice bag, but left his book bag in his locker.  He trudged back inside the school and went straight to the locker room.  The last thing he expected when he stumbled inside was to find Derek Hale leaving the showers with a towel slung low on his hips. 

            Stiles was brought up short at the sight of him.  Derek was still wet from his shower and droplets of water were rolling down his ridiculously developed chest and abs.  He wanted to lick each and every drop and follow them down to where his hipbones jutted out above the towel.  And the bulge between his legs…  Stiles felt his cock twitch in his khaki’s, he remembered mumbling something—stupid probably—grabbing his bag, and running out of there like the place was on fire.

            His fist sped up at the memory of the mostly naked body of his brand new crush.  The thought of getting his tongue on those hard, dark nipples, of tasting his way across every ridge of muscle, of getting his lips on that pouty pink mouth… Stiles imagined those lips on him and he bucked up into his hand once, twice, “ _Oh fucking fuck!”_ he sobbed and came so hard, he sprayed up his chest, hitting himself on the neck and chin.

            He strained, arching into his hand for a few more strokes of his fist before he dropped back on the mattress panting.  “I’m fucked,” he murmured and laid there a few more minutes before getting up to take another shower.


End file.
